The Stomp
by LePipi
Summary: After the angels and demons came out to the public, Dean was forced to attend a year in high school. Demon!Dean Angel!Cas Highschool!AU Wing!kink Firsttime!Virgins   ...that's a lot of exclamation points
1. Chapter 1

The Demon-Angel war had ended.

When this great and long prayed for feat had happened it was time for another much anticipated feat to occur.

It was time Angels and Demons came out to the public, to humanity.

The night of the occurrence, after many meetings, gatherings, propositions, angry oppositions, the televisions of the world aired breaking news: On each program stood two winged people, one with feathered wings and the other with stark, leather, bat-like wings.

Each took turn as they spoke of their existence, wishing peace and promising no harm.

All people took it differently.

Some welcomed them with open arms, some didn't care, some were mesmerized by the angels and feared the demons, some wanted to kill all of them, created groups to do so, some went possessed, some wanted answers of religious nature, some wanted to blame them for religious reasons.

Fifty years later the dust has somewhat settled. The 'supernatural' beings got their equality rights, got a right to regular jobs, got a right to go to school, got their 'human' rights.

What the public didn't know is that this was needless. That there was much more to their agenda.

Angels and Demons had existed for millennia, they didn't need their schools and jobs.

If they wanted to they could kill of all of humanity.

But, that's exactly why they came out.

The Angel/Demon war raged on behalf of the humanity that wasn't aware of their existence.

The demons held no care for them, wanted them dead, wanted the angels living beside them on the Earth plane. They wanted coexistence between supernatural beings, not fragile, broken, misguided humans.

Angels thought else. Their history thought of compassion and love, refused the slaughter of humans, and like most broken humans they raised war in the name of peace.

A paradox within itself.

It was the angels idea to come out, so that demons could see that coexistence _was_ available, that they could all make it work despite the humans flaws.

So, fifty years later, at the age of eighteen, Dean Winchester, a demon, found himself in his first ( although last) year of high school.

You might wonder why this is.

See, Dean grew up in a family that had lived through the change in society, that had known of the time before they lived amongst humans, that had a heart full of pain at the distraught of their existence.

Dean wasn't thought to hate. Never that. But he heard his raging father speak when he was forced into taking a human job for the sake of their agenda, for acceptance of humanity.

He saw his mother cry when she found out their grandmother had been killed by humans in a hate crime.

He learned the history of demons and angels, and was left bitter with the knowledge that it was the angels idea to go through this.

Their alliance had betrayed them.

So, he and his brother had been home schooled, by demon and angel teachers.

The angels were a necessity, as the demons were forced to get over their differences, as were the angels.

The Supernatural hierarchy had made that decision for them.

Angels and demons were forced to play fair.

And now, Dean was forced to play fair with the humans in high school. The hierarchy had noted that the children of the Winchester household had never been socialized openly with humans, so it was ordered their children attend at least one year in a public human school.

Dean was outright angry with this. He didn't like it when people told him what to do, let alone be forced into something with no choice or say in the matter.

It helped that his parents felt the same way, but an order is an order.

What Dean didn't expect, in between the frightened, excited, pointing or outright laughing group of cheap humans clad in uniform and backpacks was a flutter of black, shiny wings pass by and into the door.

-/-

In his time in that hell hole he came to understand that the angel's name was Castiel.

Typical weird ass name.

Although Dean noted his name was of a lower rank, so his ancestors must have been font row fighters.

The human school proved to take a toll on him. He came home every night tired, tired from all the noise and attention he was getting. Really, there was no point in humans. Graceless, thoughtless meat bags.

If they could only understand the full power they were capable of, their mind was capable of, if they only studied their spirituality they could became something akin to the supernatural, something a few humans had accomplished and carried the rank of 'saints'.

Still, the children weren't capable of grasping the simple study of 4th year's mathematics so Dean didn't expect much.

He also picked up one nasty, disgustingly human and destructive habit.

He picked up smoking.

The stress of being around so many shallow beings for five to six hours five days a week, plus the constant beg for attention he got from them, some asking him stupid irrelevant religious questions that have been deemed inappropriate to ask for years now, some asking him about his wings, some even tried to touch them.

The last bit ended pretty brutally for the kid that did have the balls to grab him left wings. He hopped up from his chair, threw the boy across the room, flared his wings wide and high in a threatening manner, crouched down on the floor, a high pitched scream escaping through his lips, the battle cry making his eyes turn solid black.

He was sent to the principal's office right then. Like any human had any authority over his demon grace.

It was forbidden for the supernaturals to harm humans, except for some occasions.

Uninvited touching of wings was one of them.

Wings were the most intimate part of their beings, for angels and demons too. They were used in battle, in flight and most importantly in love. To casually touch someone's wings meant you were expressing a sign of comradeship, to massage the front meant comfort, a touch he had offered to his brother and vice versa. But there was a part of the wings that was meant for a mate, and mate only.

The underside held a bundle of nerves, the joints where wings meets skin awfully tender, and most importantly the oil glands, used to clean off dirt and bacteria from said wings, and ofcourse a different kind of oil, one that only a mate could touch, see and smell.

So, now at the age of eighteen, Dean was sitting outside the school's building, smoking a cigarette to ease the loneliness, having skipped gym as it were where the children r_eally _went wild. Kicking, screaming, yelling and demented laughter, running around with no sense of space and reality, no control and no reason. Plus, the gym teacher, Dean suspected, hadn't fully accepted the supernatural entities yet, always gave him a dirty look, which Dean shot right back, and told him to sit on the bench as he was 'unnaturaly' ( always seemed to spit that word out) strong built to compete with the humans.

Bullshit.

Probably a religion nut, but hasn't kicked out Dean for the sake of keeping his job. Smart move for a dumb cause.

And there, puffing away at his cigarette he saw the boy, the _angel_ walking out of the building, his uniform far more rumpled than Dean's, tie hanging loose, eyes looking stressed.

He didn't even chance a look around himself, instead he rummaged through his pockets picking out a small, red box and drawing out a long cigarette, putting it hastily between his lips, the other hand quickly coming up to fumble with a lighter.

Dean couldn't help but let a snort escape him. Seeing an angel looking anything but prim and proper was as unorthodox as seeing a demon exchange a beer with a human ( don't trust those 'AllEqual' videos they show on tv, promoting support and acceptance).

The angel's eyes snapped to him then a glare set on his face, though it immediately translated into shock and then recognition. So, seems the angel noticed him too.

"Little stressed aren't we?" –Dean spoke through the short distance, a little louder than necessary.

"Human presence is tiring." –Dean was surprised at the voice he was presented with, having never heard him speak before. The angelic grace was emitted clearly through his voice, something that would go unnoticed through a human's ears. The boy wanted to make his presence clear, to show that he was not afraid of Dean by letting his grace show. It was basically like puffing up your chest, which made Dean laugh internally.

"That it is, that _it is..._" –Dean said while nodding his head in agreement, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"How does it bother you, though?" –Dean asked through the silence that emitted at his last words, giving the boy a look, taking in the sight of those wings. Black. An unusual color for angels. It was always associated with demons and the black of their grace as it showed into their eyes.

"...Too much attention." –Castiel said after a short pause.

"Oh, come on. I bet you love that shit. Having them gush over you and your pretty little white light of a soul." –Dean said with a mocking voice. He was in the mood to rattle this guy some more.

See being in heat, is much like having PMS.

You eat too much, you talk too much, you get back pain, you get angry a lot. With the added bonus of jacking off like a monkey.

Dean, at the ripe age of 18, the border to adulthood, had only recently entered into heat, and needless to say he wasn't getting the hang of it. He was spurting his mating oil in the worst times, to no one in particular, be it amongst humans in a classroom where no one sensed anything but the damp spots on his shirt, be it at the dining table, amongst his mother, father and brother, who would only give him an embarrassed look before he blushed beet red and excused himself to his room.

Or be it while his asleep, and wakes up with his boxers soaking, and from what? His ass! So, now, in between jerking himself off dry, he had to go and buy himself a freaking dildo from a human sex shop.

Talk about disgraceful.

"They ask you if you've met 'God', if you could cure their hiccups and throw papers at your wings, so they are not technically touching you, so you aren't allowed to fight back. At least with you, they know you are dirt." –The angel's eyes flashed brightly with his grace, and even from the distance Dean could see the blue in their color, now bright and shining. Castiel was ready for his threat.

"You are the dirt for taking us to the humans!" –Dean snarled and quickly disposed of his cigarette, immediately taking a crouch.

"You are lesser than them!" –The angel responded in kind, taking a crouch himself, his black wings spreading widely over his head and curling towards Dean.

His words were the last drop needed. In the supernatural world, calling someone a human, or in this case, _lesser than_, was an insult made to be handled with a fight.

And Dean wasn't one to disappoint.

With a hiss, Dean lunged at the boy, his eyes immediately turning black, feeling the support of his grace run through his body. But, the angel was quick, dodging Dean and with a quick step, had him splayed on his stomach on the concrete floor, landing there with a rough puff of air, as his lungs were pressed short of air.

The boy was quick, but not as strong.

Dean twisted out of hold the angel had on his arms, turning on his back and fisting his hands into his wings eliciting a loud cry of pain from the boy above.

Dean's satisfaction was short lived as the boy's eyes turned bolt bright, his grace completely taking over him, and in kind twisted his hands into the leather of Dean's wings, pulling and scorching his nails deep into the sensitive flesh.

Dean moaned loudly, feeling his throat clench, pulling blindly at the wings of the angel, Castiel's hands working mindlessly as well, until something made them stop.

In their fight, Castiel's hands have roamed as far as too reach Dean's joints, where the pain would be merciless, but he had stumbled upon his oil glands. Which were spurting the mating oil.

And, really, Dean thought the whole heat thing couldn't get more embarrassing.

Except that, it could. Castiel, being an angel, could sense the nature of the oil by scent, the mating call.

His pupils went wild, and their fight stilled, both of them catching their breaths in a frenzy, Dean too shocked and embarrassed to say a single word.

Castiel though didn't take his eyes of him, only breathed deeply through his parted lips, his face growing redder and redder by the second, Dean being much in the same state.

"Hey! Hey, you two!" –A voice of an unmistakably older woman cut the moment short, and soon the angel's hands left their hold over the glands at his back, standing up stiffly and frantically, Dean following him soon, looking anywhere but at the other boy.

"I saw you fighting! I saw you through the window! You know we have a no violence policy in this school! To the principal's office! This instance!"

Dean glared down the woman, recognizing her as one of his teachers, awkwardly shuffling inside the building, not daring to give a glance back at the angel, that had his oil on his hands.

**So I know, I've been going wild with starting new stories, but bare with me, I've been trying to get over my writer's block and I think it's sorta working.**

**To explain some things, yes, Dean's ass is soaking because he is self lubricant. Go figure. But still hot!**

**This is going to be one of those 'on the opposite side of the street' stories, where people that hate each other get together kind of thing. Also, first time virgins included!**

**If you liked the story please review, tell me what's good what's not. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

"I understand that this is very difficult for the both of you given your... situation."

"Given our species?"

"That's not what I said."

"'s what you meant." –Dean snorted humorlessly as the principal grew more and more agitated with every retort that flew from Dean's mouth.

Castiel stood by watching the situation nervously. He couldn't get his thoughts in order. He was torn between feeling angry at Dean for the confrontation, feeling pity for the woman as she was clearly a dimwit, really unfit to handle a job that requires morphing the young humans minds, and that oil on his hands that still slid between his fingers, making them shine with slick, and that aroma... Castiel felt highly unqualified to handle such a situation. At his age and at his own struggling with maturity being presented with what was literally an offer to _mate_ was... With a _demon_ nonetheless. Who couldn't even keep his own oil in check. Letting his hormones do that in the middle of a fight... Demons were always known for lack of control but this was ridiculous. Castiel didn't want the responsibility of knowing the demon's smell. He was neither family nor a friend, let alone a _lover_. He should be mad at Dean for getting his oil on his hands... But, the deep blush that graced his features spoke of shame. Dean was clearly embarrassed at what had happened, wouldn't even glance at him. It was an accident, is all it was...

"Castiel! Are you listening to me?" –The woman's voice snapped him out of his thoughts his wings giving a twitch at the startle.

He graced the woman with a curt nod and a steel gaze. He could play along with the humans, but he was not about to let one shame him.

He was prone to forgiveness, as his family had thought him. He forgave the children that mocked him, instead he sent a prayer for their young minds, praying they grow into light and wisdom. He would forgive this woman for her ignorance and later send a prayer on her behalf. But now, he was faced with multiple predicaments, and he would forgive himself for his coldness.

"You will both be suspended from school for three days, to settle down your differences."- The woman said with a self-satisfactory nod, and Castiel begged for patience to not smite her down.

"A millennia of war and you think a fucking suspension will do it?" –In a panther like movement Dean lunged at the table, bending his frame over the bark that stood between him and the woman. He looked for all, like a nightmare. His teeth clashed together, wings spread wide on either side of the table, nails digging into the wood.

"You only have authority over me, because I gave it to you. Don't make me take it back." –Dean threatened the woman with snarling words, his lips emitting spit towards the woman who was now almost swallowed by the chair, her eyes comically wide.

"Dean!" –Castiel spoke with demand in his voice, stepping forwards, spreading his wings wide to dare challenge him.

His first words since the incident and Dean's eyes snapped to him, his beastly look melting into one of bewilderment, and then a deep, scorching red blush flushed his face and he went running towards the door, knocking his wings into the frame followed by a loud streak of curses that muted into silence as he escaped further.

"One day of suspension"- Castiel ordered, letting his eyes flash with grace.

"One day..." –The woman mumbled through her shock, yet to arise from her slump.

With a nod, Castiel exited the room and took into running for Dean, if not to set things right than to at least inform him of the alteration in the punishment.

-/-

Dean ran, stopping just outside the building having to catch his breath. He panted heavily, grabbing his face with both hands. Catching sight of Castiel with his oil still on his hands, sent a very confusing message through Dean's body.

The first person to feel his mating oil and it was an angel. Castiel.

The shame he felt ran through his body, spreading his blush to his chest, knees wobbling with the burden of it.

This was not in the 'Puberty for demons' help manual.

He didn't want to admit that what he saw in the image of his slick hands was desire. He wanted those hands against him, pushing at his oil glands, spreading that oil over his back, and down, between his legs and lower, pushing inside.

He felt sick at the thoughts he couldn't control. Dean was made to control, to manipulate every situation to his liking, to not let anyone tell him otherwise. And here, his own body betrayed him.

"Dean!" –Castiel's voice sounded ragged like he'd been running here, and when Dean turned towards him he saw the boy breathless, his chest heaving.

"What?" –Dean immediately averted his eyes from him, speaking with more of a grunt than a word.

"I... We got one day of suspension." –Dean felt Castiel's voice grow nearer, and he huffed in annoyance. He didn't want him anywhere near him, not after he'd made a total ass of himself.

"Ok." –Dean deadpanned, his gaze averted when Castiel came to stand before him.

"Dean... You and I... We're the only supernaturals in this school. And it's fine if you decide to hate me, that depends wholly on you. But, keep in mind that, right now, here, we're all we have." –It unnerved Dean the soft tone of understanding that the angel used. Fuck angels and their kindness.

"I don't need you. I don't need anyone." – Dean growled turning his steel gaze to Castiel, and seeing those blue eyes shine downturned into disappointment is what broke him.

"Fuck you!" –And with that he took into running, feeling anger wash over him in waves.

Anger at the angel for touching him, for being soft, anger at the woman for playing boss with creatures that held power over her, and anger at himself for being a bastard.

-/-

The walk home seemed like it took hours. Castiel felt emotionally and physically drained to the core, more so than usual after a tiring day of school.

Castiel knew that sooner or later the demon and him would talk. He'd noticed him at the beginning of the year, passing in hallways and such. He also noticed the looks he would give him. Castiel was known for his staring, he came to know it was his best defense and offense. Every human shied away from his glare, but he had a feeling that the demon only waited to be given a look to pop off.

The demon was in heat, that much was obvious. Passing him in the hallways was like walking through a field of landmines. The smell of pheromones stank up the hallways, the back of his shirt soaked wet, little droplets of sweat sliding down his forehead. He felt pity for the demon. It must be inexplicably hard to go through the motions amongst the humans in such a state. But, he knew that the demon was still a virgin. His smell overpowered the air for months now, and the only reason his body hasn't settled is because he still hadn't had somebody take care of it. So, a demon who was in heat and wasn't having sex meant he wanted a fight. It was how they worked. It's fuck or fight with them.

And Castiel picked the short straw, so it was him he wanted to fight.

And he got it, he got a fight but somewhere down the line the 'fight' turned into 'fuck'.

Dean had a right to be angry, but only at himself. Castiel wasn't responsible for Dean's body and what it did, what it wanted.

He wanted to just, let his wings soar and lose himself in flight, let all conscious thought abandon him.

But, angels weren't allowed to fly on urbanized land because of the danger it presented. Any psycho with a shotgun can shoot you down, and whilst not kill you harm you badly, and the fall down could easily end you. There were enough of these crimes, and even though the punishment was severe, the human government rarely gave it enough attention.

There were special areas were angels could fly and let go. But, it was about that taste of freedom you got, not by being surrounded by a bunch of other angels, parents teaching their little ones how to fly, and not being allowed to stray away from the permitted distance. That's why angels took to flying over the oceans and vast seas.

Just Castiel's luck there weren't any here.

Finally, he arrived home.

He chucked off his shoes, unstrapped his trench coat from his wings and shook them trying to ease the tension there as his siblings would surely catch on it by the way his wings were hunched over.

"Cas, is 'at you?" –Gabriel's voice bellowed from kitchen.

"Yes." –Was his short response, and really, this day wasn't one of his best. Now, he had to deal with Gabriel with his parents gone and his little sister Anna at school.

He walked to the kitchen to give his brother's greeting and saw him all dressed up in a suit, a strip of chocolate covered bread hanging from his mouth as he swiftly grabbed a suitcase from the table.

"Goin' on a job interview. Don't ask." –Gabriel mumbled through the food in his mouth and brushed past Castiel and out the door.

Well, small pleasures are to be appreciated.

Now, when he had the whole house alone for him it was time for some recreational, relaxing activity.

Masturbation.

He quickly strolled up the stairs and to his room, not bothering with locking it. He dropped his bag on the floor, threw himself on the dark green sheets of his bed and grabbed his laptop.

Castiel opened up one of his frequently visited angel pornography site and scrolled down the list, searching for something that might peak his interests.

He ended up picking a male on male video.

Gender was never a big deal in the supernatural world, it was something that humans bothered with and overpriced it. If you were a male born to mate with a male that you will. If you were a female born to mate with a female than you will. If you were a male born to mate with a female than you will.

Simple as that, nothing frowned upon.

And Castiel liked variety.

He watched lazily at the screen, watching the two angels make out passionately (although without any real heat) on the bed, the big, bulky blond haired angel manhandling the smaller, lanky dark haired angel.

Castiel ran a lazy hand over his jeans, trying to get that little jolt to make himself harden. He tried imagining taking control of someone like that, how that someone's needs would be sated by him.

Finally, he felt himself getting hard, popped the button open and let the zipper fly down, then massaged his balls through his briefs to give himself that extra little boost he needed.

He felt his lungs hitch as the bulkier angel was now plowing roughly inside the smaller one, while he tugged at the sheets, his moans broadcasting loudly through the speakers.

Castiel let himself grip his cock freely without the restriction of cloth and ran his skin up and down in a smooth rhythm.

But, as his jerks grew faster and the action on the screen grew more heated he noted how something about their wings seemed off. He didn't want to see the feathers that were now bristled and shined with slick, sweat and spunk. He wanted smooth, dark, leathered wings with strong joints and sharp edges.

He shuddered a breath as a pearl of pre-come ran dawn his shaft, and snuck a hand under his school uniform to massage his hardened nipples.

And he didn't like their position. The dark haired angel should be on top doing the fucking, while the bulkier bared his thighs wide for the other to take and plow right into him until he cried out in pleasure.

His hand ran quickly over his cock, the other gliding over his chest as he felt himself grow closer to the edge.

And as he closed his eyes and threw his head back to cum, an image of Dean, all golden skin and heavy thighs, green eyes lust glazed and pleading to be fucked, spread wide on his bed for him to devour shot through his mind and that was all it took for him.

He jerked himself through his orgasm, wings bracing themselves in the air stiffly, his hips pushing mindlessly into thin air, a gasp of breath as he finally let his body settle on the sheets, feeling buzzed from his high.

And then the realization that he'd just cum while thinking of Dean hit him.

-/-

Dean dropped into bed that night feeling shittier than usual.

He nestled himself as snuggly as possible onto his belly and into the dark blue sheets, feeling the cold against his naked skin. He fisted the pillow roughly to make himself comfortable, but it wasn't his sleeping arrangement that had him unsettled.

It was his body.

The craving for sex was even more so unbearable than usual.

He tried messing around with his little brother, Sammy to take his mind off today's events, but when he asked him why was his shirt wet, all fun went downhill.

He tried watching tv with his parents in the living room, but then they started bugging him about school and grades and his classmates, asking him about joining them on a dinner party where a lot of other demon boys would be present (the soaking wet boxers that his mother washed were proof enough their boy needed a male mate).

It was all too much burden for his already sore mind and told them he was off to sleep.

Alas, sleep was not to come as his body grew uncomfortably warm under the sheets, his skin begging for contact, as he hadn't settled business the whole day.

With a sigh of defeat, Dean slid a hand under himself and between his legs to give his already hard cock a tug.

Really, you know things are messed up when jerking off feels like a chore.

He nestled his head deeper into the pillow, raising his hips a bit and spreading his legs wider to give himself better access.

He raided his mind for all the memorable demon porn images he'd seen, sucking, rimming, fucking and swallowing.

But, it still wasn't enough.

He felt slick run through his cheeks, his hole already spread wide without the intervention of fingers, asking to be filled.

Dean raised his body with an exasperated sigh, not really having the patience to reach under the bed for the box that held the dildo.

As soon as he did, he quickly snuck himself between the covers, regretting the cold air that hit his oil and sweat wet body.

He turned over on his stomach, raised his hips and started running the dildo between his cheeks, teasing his hole.

Again, he fled his mind with the dirtiest things he could think of and landed his mind on Castiel.

Fuck his brain for thinking of fucked up things just as he was pushing the dildo inside his ass.

But, it felt so good to be filled, even if it were with a cold, lifeless plastic toy.

He felt himself tighten around it, asking for movements, asking to be filled with hot, white liquid that wasn't about to come.

Dean wanted someone real, someone with a pulse point that he could bite on, someone with hands that would hold him and keep him, someone whose mouth he could kiss, whose words would tell him he's beautiful, whose body would crave him as much as he would.

And again, just as he hit his prostate, the feeling of hot hands pushing at his back glands came as a flashback.

He stifled his moans into the pillow, the hand holding the dildo pushing with a furious rhythm, his other hand reaching down to jerk at his leaking, hot cock.

No, not thinking about that fucking angel, thinking about that ripped demon that face fucked the other, thinking about that dark, scruffy demon that got fucked on a beach, thinking about that demon threesome, anything but the angel.

But, all those thoughts and fantasies morphed into one.

One of Castiel, stark naked, rippling muscles through tight skin, taking him in the school's locker room while he mumbled dirtily into his ear.

Dean came with a loud cry, only partially swallowed by the pillow as his walls squeezed around the dildo, his cum coasting his hand and sheets, wings flaring wildly, oil running down his back in deep gusts.

And as he flopped his body down on the bed with a grunt he could think one coherent thought.

The sheets would be a nightmare to clean.

**Woohoo, long chapter is long. Story officially NSFW! Yay for me. **

**Last night's episode was kinda fun, Garth is always a good laugh, and drunk!Dean was cute. So, let us all forget the complete heartbreak that was last week's episode. But, hey Bobby is on the prowl! So that's good news.**

**Also, thank you so much for the reviews I take them all to heart, and you all brighten my days so much. Hope you like this smexy piece of writing, and review if you'd care to.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean did end up going to that dinner party with his parents.

After last night's horrific accident (because there was no plausible explanation to cumming while thinking of a guy you hate), he set his mind straight.

He was going to find himself some demon, have sex and forget about the whole thing.

He spent the day off school walking around town, just trying to waste the time away so his parents wouldn't suspect anything. Telling them he got in a fight with the only other supernatural in school was sure to go over bad with them.

So, now all dressed up looking quite smart alongside his parents and brother he walked into the big mansion owned by the Crowley family.

Dean didn't want to dress up in a suit and trousers, he was a freakin' teenager, he wasn't some big ass lawyer or whatever humans associated with success. But, Mary went crazy as per usual, unbuttoned and buttoned up over 5 different kind of white shirts on Dean, who saw them all as the same, polished up his shoes for him and even ran a spit licked hand through his hair.

But, Dean, ever the rebel, agreed to wear the shirt, but not the jacket, rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, unbuttoned the top two buttons, and wore jeans. Although there was another compromise regarding the jeans, he was to wear the nicest, newest jeans Mary had bought him that didn't have the usual holes, ripped knees and bleach faded color. In a rebellious response to this, Dean mussed up his hair in it's usual spikes, instead of that slicked sideways Stephen Fry look.

His brother was all excited and ecstatic to be leaving the house as he always was. It didn't matter if it was a trip to Disneyland or the freakin' supermarket, he was always fidgeting his wings in excitement, rushing up everybody else. You gotta love that kid.

Inside the house he raided his eyes over the familiar and not so familiar faces. He left his parents and got to the table where the punch bowl and multiple appetizers were sat. Blessed be the party snacks!

He grabbed a plate of mini hotdogs and on cue heard his mother's scolding words in his mind at being rude. But, hell he was going through a hard time in his life and everybody will just have to deal.

He scanned the room and saw Crowley dressed in his usual suit chatting up a group of giggling girls. On every occasion they've met he always wore the same attire. The kid lived in a fucking mansion, with the wealthiest demons for parents in the country and he still wore that same fucking suit everywhere he went. But, hell, Dean wore the same fucking leather jacket his dad gave him everywhere, so let's not judge.

Next, he saw Ruby, dressed in a tight fitting hot red dress playing with Sammy, making him giggle and talk. Dean really didn't like the attention Ruby gave to Sam, neither did his parents. She was the one that taught him how to flip the middle finger. Let's just say that while having family dinner, flipping the bird for not wanting to eat your peas was like setting off an atomic bomb made of 'Mary anger' and 'John giggles'. Which turned into 'Mary anger towards John' and 'John scared shitless'. Which was the 'Exit: stage left' for Dean.

And then he spotted his parents talking and laughing with Crowley's parents.

Mary in her flowing, honey colored dress that shined golden, a row of pears around her neck, her hand curled in John's arm who was wearing a stark black casual suit. They really were quite the couple. Stable and secure. Something Dean wanted for himself.

With that last thought, Dean turned to the punch bowl, scowl set firmly as he was sure to top off his glass with vodka.

"Tough night?" –He heard a smooth voice from his right and turned sharply to see if it were someone that was set on telling his parents about the alcohol, but was instead met with a tall, blond, slightly scruffy demon in the usual suit freakin' everybody wore.

Lucifer.

You see, Lucifer's family was sort of big in the demon social circles. They were one of the biggest players in the demon hierarchy and just having them at your party meant a big deal.

Dean wasn't one for false idols, so he didn't really bother with them much, although he'd heard his parents talking frequently about them.

"You could say that." –Dean said with a slight nod, taking a sip from his drink to try and relax. This kind of parties weren't really his scene. Although, these were the only kind of scene he ever got as whenever he suggested they'd go to a bar every demon would give him a confused look, like he was crazy to think of leaving an over appreciated stuck up 'party', where no loud music was allowed and drinking was just for the show of holding a wine glass.

"You want to go out for a smoke? I'm not really feeling it either." – Lucifer said with a nod to his jeans pocket as that emergency Lucky's box he put there was peeking out. Dean quickly clamped a hand down his pocket, pushing the box further as to hide it. If anybody else had seen the box he would not only be in serious trouble with his parents, but everybody would look at him as a disgraceful example of a demon succumbing to the cheap joys of humans. Curse his mother for making him wear the overly tight, never-before worn jeans.

"You don't have to hide from me. Come." –Lucifer chuckled smoothly, making Dean feel slightly at ease, as Lucifer was not about to tell on him or shame him.

With a curt nod, and still slightly embarrassed, Dean followed Lucifer up the stairs, where the halls were empty and through a door at the balcony.

And, wow, Crowley was one lucky son of a bitch to have a view like this. The mansion looked upon a wide forest, trees upon trees disappearing into the dark of the night, the moon giving a soft glow to the scene before him. It was perfect for flying.

"Wow..." –Dean let out a soft gasp of appreciation.

"You should see my house. Miles of forest and plus a lake, no way in hell anybody'll see you. Maybe I should take you sometime." –Lucifer turned to Dean with a smirk. Dean saw the obvious come hitter look in Lucifer's grey eyes, and the tone of invite in his voice.

"Maybe you should." –Dean responded in kind, bending over the balcony's marble fence to give him a grin.

So, what. Lucifer was older than him, meaning experienced, he was nice enough, plus let's not forget the family name that would make his parents proud. And he wasn't so bad to look at. Kinda too big for his liking, but he could probably do good. After all, it was sex Dean was after, and that's all he wanted to get from this guy.

"Come here." –Lucifer surprised Dean with his hand on the back of his neck, pushing him forward sharply until his lips were crashed against Dean's in a kiss.

The cup of punch and vodka swiveled dangerously in his hand, and his eyes remained wide opened as Lucifer kissed him deeply, more demanding than asking.

But, Dean quickly loosened up, he was a good kisser, and no matter how strange the sudden outburst from Lucifer was, he was going to enjoy this, he told himself.

After all this is what he wanted. A demon mate to settle business with.

That was all there was to sex. Business.

He slid his lips against Lucifer's thinner ones, feeling his stubble graze his cheeks, until Lucifer basically pushed his tongue in Dean's mouth, working his way through him, and Dean sort of let him.

He wasn't used to doing things so fast, he was used to smooth hands, and lingering soft lips, asking silently for permission with a lick of tongue against his lips, and letting Dean lead the kiss.

Force was different, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

He slid his hand up Lucifer's cheek, determined to make this feel good, and carded his fingers to his wild, blond hair, and was surprised by Lucifer' sudden jerk away from him, leaving Dean with his mouth open and lips slick, cheeks reddened from the sharp stubble.

"Don't touch my hair." –Dean fell bewildered at the tone of utter threat in the man's voice, but his thoughts were caught off as Lucifer lunged at him and again began kissing and lapping at his mouth.

Kissing Lucifer was as awkward as his first kiss.

But, he learned to work his way after his first kiss, and he was going to learn how to work around Lucifer.

Even if everything felt so wrong.

-/-

Castiel wasn't having the time of his life.

The day after suspension was more tiring than usual. Everybody was interested in what he did, was it true that he got in a fight with 'a' demon (like there were any other demons in the school), did he get his ass kicked, did he kick ass, is it true that he beat the principal, was he stable and other insolent disrespectful children's mockery.

And to top it off it was raining.

Angels hated rain.

It made their wings bristle, and ache, the water irritating the smoothness and rustling the careful placement of the feathers.

Castiel folded his wings tightly against his back and folded his trench coat as much as he could over them, to keep them dry.

Alas, it was fruitless, as the water seeped through the coat, and really, there is not much it covered as his wing span was already wide enough to be considered the wings of an adult.

He trudged on the pavement with a fast walk, not really aware of his surroundings, caught up in his grim thoughts.

He hadn't seen the demon all day.

He was unsettled as he didn't know how he would react upon seeing him. Would Dean want another fight?

His thoughts were cut off as he noticed a shadow falling over his head, the rain immediately stopping.

He turned to the cause of the shadow and saw the demon in question.

Dean walked by him, one of his broad, dark wings hung over his head and the other over Castiel's head.

He looked at Castiel with a sheepish smile, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to do this. And really, this was the first time Castiel had seen the boy give the slightest smile.

"I know angels don't like the rain, feathers getting wet and all..." –Dean trailed off meekly, his words sounding unsure.

Castiel gave a curt nod to Dean and continued walking down the road, Dean following after him, his wing still perched over his head.

"You know, uh... I thought about what you said, and, you're right. And, I'm uh, I'm, I guess I'm sorry..." –Dean sounded so uncomfortable right now, it took an incredible amount of will power to not snigger.

"You guess?" –Castiel retorted, with a grin he couldn't keep, his eyes still averted from Dean, concentrated on the road ahead.

"Ok. I'm sorry." –Dean said with an exasperated sigh, the wing above his head giving a slight twitch.

"I forgive you." –Castiel meant what he said, always did.

"So, uh, friends?" –Dean spoke with a waver in his tone, like it was so unusual of him to speak like this.

"Friends." –Castiel said with a decisive nod of his head, and finally graced Dean with his eyes, giving him a smile of acceptance.

Dean responded in kind, only his smile practically ripped his face apart, gleaming so bright and happy.

So, the next decision was entirely justified.

Castiel shook the soaked trench coat off his wings, folding it in his arms, and extended one wing to give the outstretched joint of the wing above his head a soft glide of his feathers.

Dean watched with wide eyes at the movement above his wing, and for a second Castiel thought he did something wrong, over stepped some unknown demon bounds.

But, then, a small, almost shy smile graced Dean's features and twisted his wing so that Castiel had access to the leathered skin.

And the moment would have been poetic even, a young demon offering his wing to an angel, defying all war and stereotypes, if Dean's phone didn't go off.

"Fuck." –Dean cursed silently, his wings immediately stiffing from the relaxed slouch they held, and Castiel retreated his wing sharply to his back, watching as Dean rummaged through his pocket.

Dean's face faltered in a frown as he saw who was the caller's name.

"Hey, there." –The soft tone was a complete opposite from the look on Dean's face.

"No, uh, I just finished school, headed home."

"No, with a... a friend."

"Cas."

"I don't know why you haven't heard of him."

"It's not like that, Luke, seriously..."

"Okay, Lucifer."

"Yeah, it's alright."

"Around... Eight?"

"No, let's just... Hang out, or something."

"I don't wanna dress up to go to a restaurant."

"Don't, just... Come get me and we'll take it from there."

"Alright, see ya." –Dean spoke getting more and more aggravated, until finally he deflated and obviously let the other man, Lucifer, win the argument.

He snapped the phone shut and rustled his wings, still keeping one over Castiel.

"Sorry about that it's just..."- Dean made an aborted hand movement as if he himself didn't know what was going on on the other line.

"Bossy boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

And Castiel would lie to himself that he didn't have a sinking feeling run down his chest.

**Quick update is quick. Mostly because of reviews, so you know what to do :) *wink, wink*.**

**And just to explain something when Dean is speaking on the phone with Lucifer after he calls him Luke, he says Lucifer, as in Lucifer corrected him through the phone, asking to be called by full name. And you all know how Lucifer is, he's all smiles and free ice cream until you get in the van. And wow, that was a terrible metaphor.**

**Still, hope you liked it, and hope I don't disappoint!**


	4. Chapter 4

The rain didn't settle over the course of the week.

And Dean kept walking Castiel home, his wings always perched over the both of them.

As the sun blossomed, the rain stopped.

And Dean kept on walking besides Castiel, stopping only to say his goodbye as Castiel descended in his home.

Over the course of their briefs walks Dean learned a number of things about Castiel.

He learned Castiel had an older brother and a younger sister. Didn't have a father and always shied away from the subject of parents. Liked to slice banana in his cornflakes. Didn't like oatmeal. Had a strong appetite for pies, especially apple pie. Didn't know who Led Zeppelin were. Didn't like being made to feel like a fool over not being familiar with popular culture.

Really, they talked on various safe subjects, didn't mention the war and didn't point out their species.

It was sort of nice to be able to talk to someone seemingly so different and realize that above all of their differences a common ground was laid for them.

It was so easy to get Cas confused while using pop-culture references, it was ridiculous. And he would always give a half-hearted glare towards Dean when he would start laughing at him.

What Dean didn't get, is how Castiel didn't unnerve him. Not in the slightest.

Getting to know him was so easy, and despite all of his quirks and all around weirdness Dean couldn't deny that he grew fond of the guy.

There was something so welcoming in his blue eyes, like if Dean gave him flowers and right after that threw stones at him, Castiel would accept all of it with open arms.

Suffice to say, it scared Dean.

He wasn't used to having a... a friend, really. Someone that you like being with, someone that makes you happy and makes you smile.

But, Castiel came to grow into something more.

Like, how everyday Dean would creep up on him on lunch and ask him for a smoke.

Dean always had his own pack of cigarettes, but, he just needed some way to strike up a conversation with the angel.

Soon after, Castiel didn't need to be asked for a smoke and instead waited for Dean behind the gym where they usually smoked.

Dean didn't mention it, and neither did Castiel. He was nice like that.

He was nice in the way that he started packing an extra lunch for Dean. In the way he shared his smokes when Dean forgot them. In the way he didn't mention it when Dean's mating oil started to seep out when they talked. In the way he didn't badger Dean for information when Lucifer called him.

And yeah, Dean really needed to get fucked before he let this Castiel thing go out of hand.

Castiel was everything Lucifer wasn't.

He was considerate, careful, funny (in an unintentional way), caring even. And hot.

And Dean really didn't need the trouble that came with wanting Castiel.

-/-

It was a Friday when it happened.

Right before the weekend, after their last class, walking alongside each other, not paying attention to the other staring people on the streets. Smoking cigarettes not caring if anybody sees them.

"...Which is why Adele is a self-centered, self-proclaimed people's voice when she only makes money out of teenage girls tears."-

"I beg to differ, she expresses her feelings in a very honest way, regardless of the way people perceive her." –Castiel spoke with furrowed brows.

"That's not how humans work Cas, it's all about money with them, so she is basically exploiting emotions." –Dean grew heated as he couldn't get Cas to think this way.

"You are too stubborn, Dean." –Castiel gave up with an exasperated sigh.

"So that means I win?" –Dean turned to Castiel with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, Dean, it means you win in an argument that has no influence over either of us."

"You're just jealous." –Dean laughed to which Cas returned with a small smile of his own.

And, damn, it felt too good to get a smile from the guy.

"So, uh, see you Monday?" –Dean stopped as they were across Castiel's house.

"Ah, Actually Dean, I uh, I wanted to ask you something..." –It felt weird to hear the usually stoic and confident Castiel mumble his words like that.

"Shoot."

"Well, my mother and siblings are going on a trip today, over the course of the weekend to visit my uncle Zachariah, meaning they wont be back till Monday, and I would have the house to myself, so, I thought, that, maybe, you would like to, come and visit me tonight, maybe... Hang out." –Castiel finished his little vomit of stuttered and mumbled words.

Dean stared in shock at Castiel.

Castiel wanted him to come to his house. At night. Alone.

And he probably hadn't meant it in the way Dean got it, but, still.

Cas wanted to hang out. An honest to God friends-just-chilling-together kind of thing.

And Dean wanted to.

And he would have said yes if he didn't remember.

"Aw, shit... Cas, I-I would love to, really, just... I already scheduled with Lucifer tonight, so... Maybe tomorrow, if it's okay with you, or something?" –Dean blushed, scratching a hand behind his neck.

"Yes, of course, sure, I, I'll see you tomorrow, any time's good." –Castiel blushed in kind, eyes averted from Dean, giving a slight incline of his head.

"Yeah, sure... See you tomorrow, then." –Dean gave a forced smile to Castiel's suddenly glum face.

"Tomorrow." –Castiel returned Dean's gesture with an equally strained smile, and descended towards his home across the street.

Dean sighed in frustration and stomped his way to his house, frustrated with himself and Castiel and Lucifer and the world.

-/-

"You feel so good, baby..."

Lucifer hung over Dean's splayed form on the couch, his hands roaming beneath his shirt, kissing and nipping and his sore lips.

They lay together after flying in the dark sky until it rained again. It made Dean remember the first time he walked Cas home. And so this is where he asked Lucifer to go inside his house.

Dean huffed a breath as Lucifer's hands reached over his chest and tugged at his nipples. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Who the fuck tugs at a guy's nipples? It hurts like fuck!

"Luke, don't..." –Dean said softly as Lucifer's hands went for his belt, undoing it with swift and trained fingers.

"I told you I don't like nicknames..." –Lucifer said with a disinterested tone, straightening his back to pull Dean's pants down.

"I said don't!" –Dean shot upright, grabbing at his jeans. Chancing a glance at Lucifer he saw the man looking at him with dark, hooded eyes. And this is where Dean realized he was scared of him.

"Please, baby... Just, kiss me." –Dean gulped audibly, making his voice go soft with care, anything to get that threatening look off of Lucifer's face.

"I've been patient with you, Dean. You are more than ready, and I am done waiting."-His voice took a low, threatening tone that sent shivers of terror up Dean's spine.

He jerked Dean's hands away from him, and roughly pulled the denim down to his ankles, before Dean could stagger up again.

"I said stop it, Lucifer! I don't want to, I don't want you!" –Anger took control as he didn't register the words that escaped his lips. He let out a shaking breath, from fear, adrenaline, and watched as Lucifer went stoic still.

"And who do you want, Dean? That angel you keep trailing after like a stray dog? You think he wants you? You think anybody wants you? Everyone can smell him on your wings, Dean! Everybody knows you've been fooling around with them! It's in your grace, you little fuck! It's dirty! I wanted to help you get rid of it, I could have tonight! You know what, you're not even worth the yelling. You've lost your chance to be saved, you don't deserve to be called a demon. Out..." –Lucifer's speech was one fueled with anger and hostility, making Dean squirm under the sheer intensity resonating from his voice and his eyes.

He stood upright, leaving Dean a breathless and terrorized mess, lying stiffly on his back, afaraid of moving and talking.

"I said get the fuck out, you freak!"

And with those words and a threatening flip of black wings, Dean was up and flying out the window, no sense of space and destination, only the feeling of damp, hot tears running down his cheeks.

-/-

Safe to say, Castiel wasn't having the best of times.

Alone...

Bored...

Tired...

Laying on the sofa in front of the tv, flicking mindlessly through program after program, idiot after idiot, eating chip after chip...

So this is what it's like to be human.

Instead he could have been spending his time with Dean.

Who was now probably off with that God awful Lucifer (although he'd never met the demon). And he's probably holding Dean, touching his body, kissing his tan skin, and possibly kissing somewhere else.

But, Castiel knew Dean was still a virgin. With a demon boyfriend, who he came to realize was older and of a famous family name nonetheless. And he still hadn't gave it up. What was holding him back? He still shivered from the oil, his shirt was still soaked, and he still wouldn't have sex.

But, somewhere in the back of his mind, where Castiel didn't dare touch, he knew he was glad he was still a virgin.

An unexplainable, inexcusable thought, but it was still there.

Maybe it was because he had the feeling the demon was a douche, from the insistent calling, and words that had Dean rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw. Maybe he thought he wasn't good enough for Dean.

Dean who was kind but cautious, funny in his own sarcastic way, opinionated but open, good-natured and charming. Hot beyond words, too.

And also, a demon.

Not an angel.

He let out a frustrated sigh and closed his eyes in an attempt at sleep, disregarding his grim thoughts or at least trying to.

And he might have been successful in his pursuit if the bell didn't ring. And he might have ignored it if it wasn't followed by frantic knocking.

He dislodged the blanket reluctantly and tried to smoothen his rumpled sleep shirt.

And as he grew closer the knocking became louder and more desperate. Whoever it was, was in a hurry.

He switched the key in the lock with defiance, not sure if he wanted to see who was waiting behind, feeling a little lost and a lot sleepy.

But, upon opening the door he was shocked into wakefulness.

Dean stood before him in the dark, his whole body hunched uncomfortably, shoulders stiff and head bent down. The demon cast a look upwards and that's when Castiel saw it. His green eyes dulled by pain and some kind of fright, his cheeks stained with dropping tears, mouth slack open in between harsh breaths.

"Dean..."

"Cas, please..."

And that's all it took for him to grab the boy's shaking form in between his arms.

**So, yes, I know I've been a little late with this, but I did start writing it immediately after, alas real life came calling. **

**Still hope you liked it, and really guys like I would let that happen to Dean. It seems the free ice cream wasn't enough. **

**Re view if you'd care to I _will_ update faster if you do so. :)**

**Also, while you are thinking over if you should or should not review this smexy piece of writing keep in mind that next chapter is the sexy sexy smut. ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Cas... I'm... Shit, fuck, I'm sorry..." –Dean mumbled the words into the blanket that covered his cold, wrecked form and shaking wings.

After Castiel got him into his home, he quickly directed Dean to his bedroom, told him to lay and get warm while he got him something to settle down.

He came back with a cup of warm milk, and the sweetness could be smelled from where it was placed by the nightstand.

And Dean felt like the biggest charity case. He came shaking and crying to the angel's door and he took him in without as much as a blink. He took him to his room, let him lay on his bed, let him damp the clean sheets with oil, sweat and tears, and now, he even brought him freakin' milk. The guy was an angel in all senses of the word.

But, he couldn't bring it in himself to care.

He needed to be taken care of right now, and Castiel hadn't disappointed so far.

"What are you apologizing for, Dean?" –Castiel's voice came soft and quiet, laced with hurt. His eyes were downturned, and even in the darkness of the room, he could see his grace shine within them.

"Cas?" –Dean asked cautiously, leaning slowly towards the other boy's slumped form on the bed, black wings stiff in what was an attempt to hide his emotions.

"He did something didn't he?" –The words came heavy and frightened, as if Castiel was afraid of the answer.

"He... He tried to, force me." –Dean said with a crippled tone, choking back a sob that transcended the room audibly.

Castiel's eyes snapped up to him, and Dean couldn't bare to let his friend see him like this, snot running in his nose, tears staining his cheeks, eyes bloodshot, and confidence shattered. Not his usual, chipper self that liked to poke fun at the angel and carried his head high. He was vulnerable and that wasn't something he liked having people known of.

He was beginning to regret coming to the angel.

He was almost sure that the next morning he would feel shame wash over him, embarrassed he dropped his façade in front of him, scared he would look at him differently, afraid their relationship was going to dissolve.

A rustle of sheets and a hand sneaked under his chin, his lips downturned into a grimace to stifle his hitching breath.

Castiel's hand lifted his chin with soft guidance and Dean let him, opening his shut eyes to see Castiel's own shining brightly with grace, the force and power a silent rumble beneath the blue orbs.

"Tell me he didn't, Dean. Please, Dean..." –His voice came dangerously quiet through gritted teeth, but his grace wouldn't let him stay calm. His grace carried aggression and an undercurrent of deep fear. Dean felt everything, but most of all he felt that he was at the center of this wild burst of emotion, making his own eyes flutter black in recognition.

"He didn't. I stopped him, he didn't do anything." –And like it came, the grace quickly changed current, this time a flash of relief that washed over Dean himself, it was that strong.

"I knew he was bad, Dean. I knew it, and I stayed silent, I didn't want to meddle. I could have stopped it, I could have..." –But his words were cut off by Dean's lips smashing against his own.

Everything felt like too much.

The feeling of Castiel's grace engulfed the room, the whole space around Dean and even managed to touch his own black grace. Castiel couldn't control his grace and what was done was unintentional.

But, in that brief wrapping of graces Dean felt just how much Castiel was ready to offer to him, he felt the chilling fear of before, he felt the frantic wave of care, of how deep his empathy for him went, and he felt longing.

He felt the longing to be able to touch Dean right now, to be able to close his arms around him, thread his feathers against the leather of his wings, condole him with words of affection, lay his lips over his own.

Dean felt his grace flutter with overwhelming feelings, reaching out for the angel's grace, and as their graces clashed their lips did.

Castiel responded in kind, clashing his teeth against the other's, lips kissing and tugging, noses bumping and hands traveling against the other's body, roaming over every inch of cloths clad skin, wings bending awkwardly to wrap against the demon's wings, letting the black grace flow against his own.

"Cas..."- Dean sighed against the angel's lips, eyes closed in anticipation, feeling the puff of breaths from the other.

"Dean?" –Came Castiel's silent rumble, voice strained.

"Would you... Take me?" –Dean spoke with silent words, afraid to disrupt the stillness of the situation, their wings hanging in the air, as if afraid to touch again, hands standing indecisively between them.

Castiel's response was to crush his body against the demon's, making him flop down on the bed, while his mouth worked aggressively against the other's.

"Yes. Yes, Dean." –Castiel sighed the words in a wistful manner, like those were the words he'd waited to hear.

"Just, take it slow, Cas..." –Dean voiced with a small, unsure smile from where he was underneath the angel, his previous distress forgotten.

"Anything you want, Dean." –Castiel said with a smile of his own and dipped down to kiss him again.

"Anything..." –And Dean responded with the languid pull of his lips, darting his tongue between their mouths, slicking the angel's plush lips.

Pulling back, Castiel smiled at Dean, supporting himself with his arms on either side of Dean's shoulders.

Castiel was a sight to behold like this. Dark hair mussed from running his fingers through it, eyes glazed with affection and shining with bubbling grace, chest heaving under a thin, white shirt, charcoal wings wide and spread, and a smile radiating with warmth.

He couldn't help but smile in return.

He was finally getting what he wanted and wouldn't let himself have.

His wings beneath him gave an aborted flap of movement as his mating oil leaked through.

Castiel's eyes followed the movement and his grace once more erupted wildly and pressed against Dean's own, making the demon let out a shivery sigh.

Castiel's eyes sparked with intent as he moved his arms to his shirt and lifted it to discard it on the floor.

Dean followed every movement and once again felt a flow of oil, but this time it came lower and made his boxers stick.

The angel proceeded to take Dean's shirt off, who lifted his arms willingly easing the way for the angel.

Again, Castiel stopped, and the air felt heavier and heavier with every second. He roamed his eyes over the demon's body and Dean would have felt self-conscious, but his flushed skin was a sign of anticipation not of shame.

"You're so beautiful, Dean. So, so beautiful." –Castiel said softly as his fingers glided lightly through his cheekbones.

Dean breathed audibly through his slack mouth and couldn't help jerking his hips against the wide spread legs of Castiel on either side of his own.

The angel gave a startled moan as he chanced a glance downwards and found the demon's jeans tented.

"Please, Cas. I want you. Just you." –Dean wanted to make it clear that this wasn't a release of tension. Not anymore it wasn't. He sent his grace against the angel's own, giving him a wave of affection, showing him that he was wanted, needed.

He didn't know what their graces were doing, this was his first understanding that grace was involved in sex, but he found he liked it.

He liked the push and pull of emotion that transcended between them.

Castiel's eyes jerked towards Dean at the statement, and just as quickly closed them to feel the black grace run through him, his wings flapping excitedly behind him.

As soon as Castiel got used to the waves of black grace against his own, he immediately set to take Dean's clothes off.

His attention was caught as he finally slid the embarrassingly wet boxers off, and watched steadily at the hard line of Dean's cock, leaking pre-cum in a hitching flow.

Dean could only watch as Castiel bent down to give his head a slick press of lips, making him give a squealing gasp.

Castiel gave Dean an amused smile, which made him flush deeper.

"Sensitive, there..." –He mumbled an unneeded excuse, casting his eyes around the room.

"How about... here?" –Castiel's amusement carried to his voice, and as he reached a hand across his balls, between his thighs and lower, at his leaking entrance making Dean erupt with a yelping moan, his whole upper body reaching forwards for contact, his legs contracting, knee against knee, trapping Castiel's hand there.

"Oh, fuck, Cas!" –Dean said through gritted teeth, eyes shut tightly, concentrating on the feeling of Castiel's fingers against him, teasing and massaging him there, not breaching the loose pucker that was begging for contact.

"You ready for me, Dean?" –And that voice, fuck, made his back glands pulse with the call to the mate, his oil sticking to the sheets beneath him, lower, coating Castiel's hand that worked him, marking him with his smell.

"Yes, Cas, please, do it already." –Dean spoke eagerly, spreading his legs wide to invite Castiel between them.

The hand between him left, and went to slide Castiel's loose sweatpants off him, and dammit.

No experience at all, and Dean wanted that cock in his mouth, wanted to taste the skin, swallow his cum, massage his balls in his hand as he brought the angel to orgasm.

He never knew he could want so strongly.

And he would have done just that, but the need to be filled was a stronger one. He felt himself relax entirely at the sight of Castiel, and he amazed even himself at how ready he was.

"I want you... Now." –Dean sighed the words, not leaving his eyes from Castiel's heavy cock.

The angel let out a croaking sound, and he took Dean's legs to position himself between him, his eyes almost white with grace.

Castiel placed his cock at the demon's leaking entrance, chancing a glance to Dean's sweaty face for permission.

Dean could only nod franticly in retaliation, and so came the first, slow push inside.

The demon let out a howling moan of heat, dropping his head back on the bed.

All he'd ever waited for and it was finally there. Inside him, the angel's pulsing cock felt like he was made to fit him, to swallow him at his slick entrance.

"You okay?"-Castiel's voice came gruffly, like it was an effort to speak, his hands holding tightly onto Dean's hips.

"Yeah, fuck... So good, Cas..." –Dean's voice trailed off as Castiel continued his slow tempo, pushing into Dean with care.

Somewhere down the line of slow thrusts things took a different road.

Dean was gripping Castiel's neck, while the angel squeezed Dean's back glands, the tempo sped to frantic thrusts, and their lips emitted mumbled words and loud cries of ecstasy.

On the edge of orgasm, Dean's clouded mind shifted.

His grace instead of flowing over Castiel's breached the surface of ghostly white light, intertwining with it, speeding through it, catching on waves of different emotions, tasting a kind of power and essence he wasn't familiar with. Castiel responded with his own grace pushing into Dean's piercing through the black veil connecting with the burst of strong emotion and wild strength he found there.

In a second, Castiel's hand gripped Dean's upper body, one hand on his shoulder, other holding onto his flapping wing's joint, Dean's own hands interlocked in Castiel's hair, gripping with strength, and they both came simultaneously, Dean with a loud cry, ripped free from his throat, cuming over the angel's chest, and Castiel inside Dean, stilling for a second and riding it out after.

Once both of them were back on Earth, Dean noticed two things.

First Castiel's eyes were completely white, nothing human about them.

Second, there was a hand shaped burn onto his shoulder.

"Cas?" –Dean voiced his concern as best as he could, his body worn and still positioned in Castiel's lap, his throat sore from moaning and shouting.

"Does it hurt?" –Castiel's voice came even gruffer and more breathless than Dean's, his chest heaving, little droplets of sweat making their way down.

"No..." –At this, Castiel cautiously pressed his hand there, and in a strike an overwhelming feeling rushed over both of them, a bundle of their graces erupted, and through all of the emotions, one stood out.

It was love.

Castiel slapped his hand back and once more their eyes were back to normal.

"What was that?" –Dean asked breathlessly, freight apparent in his voice and eyes.

"I... I think we're mated Dean. Bonded." –Castiel said shamefully. And in that moment Dean understood. He knew what Castiel's tone meant, further than just hearing it. Through their connected graces he felt Castiel's anxiety and fear or rejection. The angel's emotions were out on the open for him. Which meant so were Dean's.

"Cas, I... I don't mind being... with you." –Dean tried offering his acceptance to the angel. He had no idea what this was and what this meant, but it meant something to him, and to Castiel. And it felt good.

"Dean, you... you don't understand. It's for life. Bonded, mated. Always and forever." –Castiel dislodged himself out of Dean, placing him back on the bed and went to stand up.

He was stopped by Dean's hand on his shoulder.

"I love you." –And he meant it. He couldn't lie to himself. What was once hatred, turning into a crush blossomed into love. He couldn't describe how he knew for certain that it was bare, raw love, but he felt it in himself and felt it in the angel's grace.

"Dean..." –Castiel voiced helplessly, and Dean still felt his freight.

In response he pushed his grace through the angel's, opening his emotions bare for him to see and feel. Feel his love and devotion.

"We can work this out. Together." –Dean said softly as he watched Castiel's eyes go soft from the comfort Dean offered.

"Together..." –Castiel whispered as took the hand on his shoulder and intertwined their hands.

Dean could only smile in joy as he felt the angel's white grace was through his, showering him with affection and care.

They settled against each other under the rumpled covers, both too exhausted to shower, wrapping their legs together, and Castiel holding onto Dean's bulkier form while the demon rested his head against his angel's chest.

"Dean?" –Castiel's voice came foggy as sleep was just about to overpower Dean, from the stressful day, the fiasco with Lucifer ending at the bonding with Castiel, he felt too tired to handle it all.

"Yeah..."-He mumbled into his lover's chest.

"I love you, too." –And he placed a light kiss on the demon's forehead.

Dean responded with a kiss at his chest.

There would, of course, be lots of trouble on their road together, there would be their parents, the school, the demon/angel social groups, they probably wouldn't get invited on social gatherings anymore and whatnot.

But, facing the problems that lay ahead would have to wait.

Right now, in each other's arms, worn and tired, having proclaimed their love for one another, all they had to do was sleep.

**So, this is officially THE END. Again, I wasn't exactly fast in updating this, but I hope the wait makes up for it, and thanks to the readers for reviewing and enjoying this story, I write this for you as much as I write it for myself. **

**There might ( accent on the MIGHT) be a little follow up chapter, but I'm not promising anything. **

**Still, thanks again to anyone who's stuck with this story, and I hope the ending was satisfactory. **


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